#napoleon solo x you

[mlm-writer]

What You Like (Napoleon Solo x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Dom!Napoleon Solo x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 598 POV: Second Summary: You got a voice kink and Napoleon Solo has a smexy voice. Note: For the prompt ‘voice kink’.  See my kinktober 2022 masterlist here. Reader’s getting fingered in an ambiguous hole. Tags: voice kink, dirty talk, fingering, cumming untouched, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pwp and a dash of aftercare

After two rounds even the great Napoleon Solo needed a break, but that did not stop him from tiring you out completely. His lips were all over your neck and his fingers were deep inside you. With every twist of his fingers, he just barely missed your sweet spot. “You’re such a fucking tease,” you complained. 

His free arm twisted around you and pulled your back against his sweaty chest. “I thought I’d be nice and give you a break, sweetheart,” he replied in your ear, voice a little husky. You could hear the smirk in his every word. His timbre electrified your nerves and you shuddered in his embrace. “Besides, even like this, I believe I can make you cum. Come on, cum.” 

You wanted to disagree, but he was right. Just hearing the words in that sultry voice sent you over the edge. You did not even know how many orgasms you’d already had that night. “That’s right, just keep going, be good for me,” Solo spoke softly into your ear. You moaned in reply, your entire body convulsing and trying to get a break from all the pleasure. “Do you want to taste yourself on my fingers?” You nodded, pleading for him to make you taste it. 

Relief came, when his fingers were pulled out of you, but it was not time to breathe yet. You almost gagged on his big fingers pressing down on your tongue. “Start sucking,” he commanded and you did as you were told. Your mind was hazy, as you sucked on his fingers, while still twitching from your long orgasm. “That’s good, you like tasting yourself on my fingers, don’t you?” You hummed in agreement. “But there is something you like even more than tasting yourself. I think you might even enjoy it more than my cock.” You nodded your head with his fingers still in your mouth. “What is it?” 

He took his fingers out. “Your voice,” you replied the second your mouth was free. His hand came down and slapped you on your sex. You let out a surprised cry. How did even that feel good right now? 

“That’s right. Cum.” And your body just listened, the only stimulation being the lingering sting of his hand. He held you in place with both hands, while your fucked out mind obeyed his every command. “You sound so perfect, when you cum for me,” Solo grunted into your ear, his voice just a little lower than before, “do it again for me. Cum.” You cried out as your body had a mind of its own. Feeling his hand between your legs, intensifying your pleasure felt like both a blessing and a curse. 

You were sobbing by the time your orgasm had passed. He put both arms around you, holding you tight as you sucked in air like you had been stuck in space. A glass of water made it from the bedside table to your lips and you sipped on it until your dry throat felt all right again. “That’s it, you’re fine,” Solo affirmed to you, his face pressed against the side of your head and his lips brushing against your ear with his every word. He rocked your bodies from side to side, letting you relax in his embrace. Once your body was not tight strung like a violin’s bow, the muscular man sagged down, until you were both lying down. You shifted to get a little more comfortable. For now, this was enough, but judging by the hand on your ass, the night was far from over. 

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2022, Day 7: Grooming

My Pet.  Mine.  Forever.

Summary:  Solo will make you perfect for him

Pairings:  Napoleon Solo X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, D/s dynamics, collar, teasing, degradation, dumbification, fingering, cuffs, praise kink, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.3K

Previous

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

You look up at your professor as he continues his lecture, his bright blue eyes looking around the room, but always ending on you. Seeing the slight quiver of his mouth as he tries not to smile at you. His eyes roaming back around the room. He could try to deny it all he wanted, but he had mesmerized you.

He was extremely attractive, but there was something about the way he always found your gaze. How he would make an excuse to walk past you, his arm grazing along your skin. Even the way he would ask you to hang back after class so he could discuss your paper. His large body always looming over you, while you couldn’t think properly with his expensive Tom Ford cologne. He was intoxicating.

Sexy didn’t even describe Professor Solo. His pores wept of pure raw sex. Walking past your desk, to stand beside you. His hand clamping down on your shoulder while he continued his speech. The low timbre of his voice going straight to your core. You were always a sloppy mess in here. Ruining your panties every time he opened your mouth.

“I hope you guys have a great spring break. Papers will be due when you get back,” the class groans, but he grips tighter to your shoulder, and you sit stoically. “It’s been a semester long paper. Had you decided to work on it before now, you would have your entire spring break. Class dismissed,” he says, releasing your arm.

Solo says your name softly, leaning over your body, “Please, stay after class. I have something I need to discuss.”

The class leaves, while you sit, waiting patiently until the last student leaves. He walks calmly over to the door, and closes it. This time, turning the lock, before he walks back to where you're sitting. Opting to sit on the desk in front of you.  Raised up higher than you, and making you feel even smaller. A perfect view of your cleavage. He knew you were trying to get his attention. But you had it a long time ago. A young girl, eager to please, and very responsive to praise. He wanted you. Wanted to own you, and you were making it oh so very easy.

He whispers your name again, before holding out a paper, “I went over this, and I’m glad you didn’t turn it in as your final draft. You do better work than this,” he gulps when you play with that ever present choker around your neck. He knows exactly what would look better. “You’re better than this.”

“I, uh…I just, um…”

“Speak up. You need to say exactly what it is you mean.”

“I just,” you start taking a deep breath, and he gives you a warm smile, “I was needing some extra help on it. Like…extra curricular help?”

He gives you a smirk, and you bow your head in shame. Your blood pulsing through every part of your body, maybe you had misread all the signals he was giving you. You had crossed a line with your professor, and now you were just humiliated. “Look at me,” you look back up at him, and his hand goes to cup your cheek. Your mouth automatically opens, ready to be stuffed with his thumb.

“Oh, you are a sweet little Pet, hmm?” The praise goes straight to your core, as your cunt clenches around nothing. “You have done so well this semester. I was hoping eventually your dumb baby brain would pick up on everything. Close your mouth,” you close it immediately. Eyes moving to his crotch, and you preen at the sight of his swollen slacks.

Handing over your paper, he nods at you, “I’m sure that page three will help you with what you’re needing. Only take that advice, if you’re ready to indulge me. It’s an intense paper I know, but it’s so rewarding. You may go. Enjoy your break.”

You give him a pout, but stand, walking out of the room, and it isn’t until you flip to page three, that he gave you his address on a sticky note. You didn’t care how intense he was, you were ready to have him more than just for a teacher.

“You wanted my attention, you got it,” Solo says as he looks your body up and down. You had come prepared. Such a needy little thing. He knew that he was making you weak in class, by every bite of your pen, every switching of your legs, the squeezing of your thighs, the trembling and even whimpering when he touched you. You were weak for him, and that’s just how he wanted you.

Ready to do whatever his sick and twisted mind wanted. And all he wanted was a pretty little pet to dress up and play with. His large body walks around yours, and your gaze turns to the floor below. “Kneel,” without hesitation you get to your knees, still too scared to look up at him. “How will I know that you are mine even when we’re out in the open?”

“Sir?”

“I just want an outward sign that you are mine. My Pet.”

Your tongue darts out of your mouth, and you lick your lips slowly, “Your pet?” He gives a single nod, and you go weak. Body twitching around, “So you would use me as your toy?”

“Of course. Show my authority to you, and you take it like the bitch in heat you are,” audibly you whimper, and his cock twitches. You were perfect. It had taken most of the semester, but he took his time relishing in your obedience.

“A collar?”

“I was hoping you would say that. A collar for here, but a beautiful necklace out there,” he points towards the door, and you follow his finger, giving him a nod. He pulls out a necklace, holding it up, when you spot the Greek letters on there. “Alpha Kappa Omega.”

“I thought that was a myth,” you gulp looking up at him. You were too far gone, but you had heard of that fraternity.  That brotherhood.  An almost secret society.  Had heard the rumblings of the Professor, the Coordinator, it was the very man that stood before you.

“No, sweetheart. It’s very real. Would you want to be with one the founders?”

“I’m…I’m your Omega?”

“You are. I’m your Alpha, and I captured you, didn’t I?” you nod your head, looking up at the beautiful necklace. It looked innocent enough, but it held a secret on it. The most elite of secret societies, and he wanted you as his.

“Please, sir,” switching the necklace for a black leather collar instead, you were in his home after all. He walks behind you, cuffing your hands with leather as well, before ripping your dress, and pulling out your tits. Giving a sinister smile at the pebbled peaks.

“Just how wet are you? Stand up,” he gives a little chuckle as you try to right yourself up, but you finally make it. Spreading out your legs wide, and he finally touches you on your quivering cunt. Moaning at your slicked up folds, and he gives your swollen bundle of nerves a quick pinch. “You’re drenched.”

Grabbing a hold of your nipple, pulling it he guides you out of the foyer, and into the living room.

“On the couch. Ass up in the air, so I can see that pretty sloppy pussy,” with difficulty, you get to your knees. Your face smooshed on the cushion and ass in the air, and he sits down beside you. Grabbing up the remote, he mindlessly tries to find something to watch.  Completely ignoring your leaking cunt and desperate self.

Giving your glistening folds a quick look. He sinks his fingers into your waiting cunt. His finger slowly pumps into you, while he looks back at the tv. It was infuriating and humiliating for him to use you for his own pleasure, and still your whore hole just gets wetter. The idea of becoming his pet and play toy exciting you. “Does it feel good like this?” he asks, adding a second finger. You give him a satisfied moan, and nod your head.

“Or is this better?” adding his third finger, and you feel a slight sting.  But still he doesn’t look at how well you’re taking him.

“Much better.”

He could try to pretend he didn’t care, but his eyebrows raise with every sweet sound you make. “What is it that’s turning you on, My Pet? My fingers, the fact I’m not even looking at the way I have you stretched around them, or because I’m using you like the needy little slut you are? You don’t care how I touch you, as long as I just use you, hmm?”

“Yes, sir,” he presses his thumb against your clit, and you see stars. Your body twitches around, and he gives your ass a hard smack.

“You’re getting the fourth finger. Move again, and you get my whole fist. Just learn how to take it. Quit the whining,” you yelp at the added stretch, but remain still. Living in the moment of Solo having you like this. “I gotta prepare you for my fat cock. Or do you think you can take it? Wanna have tears streaming down your face because I haven’t prepared you? They always cry. They never last because it’s just too much for their pathetic little cunts. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are already so much more obedient than the others.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck,” he says looking over at your pussy swallowing four of his fingers. “Yeah, like that. I think she could take me. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow. Good thing we have all week to break her in,” he pulls out his hand, moaning at the string of your arousal that follows his retreating hand. “Oh, she’s good and juicy.”

Undoing his shirt, he slings it over the couch, and you finally get to see his chiseled body. Larger than any man you had ever been with. Thick sinewed lines of muscle. A luscious patch of hair leading straight to the prize you were ready to beg for. Slowly taking his pants off you watch that glorious cock pop up. He was thick. Massive even. Heavy with the prettiest vein that you wanted to follow with your tongue.

You had never taken anyone of his size, and even with your murmured voice and whining, he smiles, “Oh you’re gonna take it,” he wasn’t just thick, his length looked like he was going to be in your stomach. Rearranging your guts, and expecting you to thank him for it, “Get over here, and take it like a good Pet.”

“My hands.”

“You’ve desperately wanted my cock this whole semester, and being cuffed is going to keep you from it?”

“No, sir,” you whisper. Going to stand up, you straddle him. Hovering over his cock, you realize just how large and menacing it was.

With his hands tight on your hips, he guides you to that delicious cock, and helps you sink over it. A strained whine makes its way up your throat as your pussy burns at the stretch. Moving so slowly you feel every inch, every ridge, every vein, and every bit of him. He coaxes you down further, wanting you to take every bit of him, until your hole is gaping and tender.

Mewling when he finally settles somewhere in your stomach. Swearing you feel him all the way in your mouth. “Such a good Pet. Look at you taking every bit of me. It wasn’t that hard was it?” you shake your head no, and it falls forward to his shoulder. “Oh, it’s got this pitiful little sex puppy already fucked out. Do I need to use your body?”

“Please, sir.”

“You can’t even think, huh? So pitiful. Got you all stretched out, and you’ve gone dumb with that. I’m going to have so much fun with you, my sweet,” his hands lift you off of him, before letting gravity take over, and you scream up his name. “Little,” doing the motion again, you start to see stars. “Dumb,” another time has you gasping for air. “Puppy,” you wail. Head tilting to the ceiling where you repeat please over and over again.

“You want me to stop?” you shake your head no. “You’re gonna cum, and I have barely fucked you, huh?” He slams you over his length, and you’re thankful he can think. You feel blissed out, with very little effort. It would take a long time to adjust to his cock. Months before your pussy was molded to him. But you would do it.  It would be your greatest honor.

“It’s yours,” you mumble, your words slurring as pleasure ripples through your veins.

“Oh, I know. You’re gonna let me do whatever I want, hmm?”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you want,” with a maniacal chuckle, he goes on a rampage. Fucking your body over him, and leaving your a writhing mess. Feeling so stuffed and full, and so utterly destroyed. He had ruined you. You were going to be his special pet. Take the initiation like a champ, and surely it couldn’t be worse than his giant cock.

Pushing and pulling you on his cock, you just about pass out multiple times. It was so much, too much, and you reveled in it. Delighted at his simple praises of being able to take him. Not caring about the tears that cascade your face, it was just Professor Solo. “I’m…I’m…”

“Oh, I know you are. I feel this tight pussy clenching around me. Let go, so I can fuck you when you pass out. Gotta get you used to me. They always cry, always pass out, but you can handle it. You're getting my pleasure now, sweet Pet.”

“Mmhmm. So good,” your head lulls back when he pushes you down hard. Eyes rolling in the back of your head, when you finally scream out his name. Speaking in tongue, but he knew exactly what you needed.

“So much fun with you, My Pet. Mine. Forever.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @infatuatedjanes @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @whimsyplaty92 @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands @thedarkplume @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sgtjaamesbaarnes @missusbarnes-rogers @km-ffluv @mickeyhenrys @awkwardgiraffe726 @seitmai

[white-bow-tie]

happy friday

full is on AO3 and free on bluesky ;)

[lhenrycavil]

Oh My Little Girl, come here🤤

[academicgangster]

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. 3x19 || NCIS 1x12

bonus:

[heytheredeann]

TMFU + text posts pt.10

[witchersmistress]

Snooping and Library Sex 2.0

Hello my Darlings! Im in decisive af so i have here another version of Snooping, i changed the characters around and added some details but its basically the same.

Trigger Warnings: rough sex, orgasm denial, destruction of books, back sassying

Word count: 4K

as usual my darlings, you do not have my permission to copy, translate or use my work in anyway. if you do i will haunt you for the rest of your days k?

I can feel the angry energy roiling under my skin after my encounter with Napoleon, all the sated, relaxed feeling from the self induced orgasms is nothing but a distant memory already. I’m on edge and pissed off, and I hate it.

It’s like the ground is shifting out from beneath me, like I can’t find solid footing anywhere, and that unbalanced sensation makes me want to lash out. It would make the most sense to go up to my room and hide out until I feel better, but for some reason, I don’t want to do that. Being idle sounds shitty, so after depositing my shit upstairs, I stalk around the house instead, feeling defiant. So far, I haven’t poked around their space too much. I go from the room they gave me to the kitchen and sometimes to the living room, but not really beyond that. Now I don’t stop myself from doing what I want, striding from room to room as if the whole house is my personal domain.

 I yank open a door down a corridor off the main entryway and find a well-kept baby grand piano inside. I roll my eyes at the fucking luxury these assholes clearly live in and look the instrument over. One of them must play. Even though they have so much nice shit, it would be stupid to have a whole-ass piano in here if it didn’t get used. Which one is it, I wonder? Staring at it doesn’t yield any answers, so I march back out, closing the door behind me. Another couple of doors just lead to closets, and I bypass them, not caring enough to rifle through coats and boxes and shit. But the next door I try reveals a small library. That’s the only good word for the room full of books. There are shelves lining three of the walls, and an armchair with a small end table beside it tucked into a corner. It looks like the kind of place that gets a lot of use, which is surprising as hell since none of the guys seem like the intellectual types. Just the thought of Napoleon or Syverson sitting in that chair with a cup of tea and a thick book is almost enough to make me laugh. It’s a toss-up with Napoleon, and August could go either way too. There’s a set of encyclopedias on one of the shelves, and I roll my eyes because apparently we’re back in the dark ages or some shit.

 I move on from those and find a stretch of classic books. The titles stand out in gold on the spines, things like The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, The Prince, The Odyssey, and The Iliad. Books like they make you read in high school, full of shit you’ll never care about again. I take a couple off the shelves and check them out, running my hands over the smooth leather of the covers and the embossed letters of the titles. I flip through one, The Odyssey, and am surprised to see little notes in the margins. Whole passages have been underlined, and the handwriting is cramped off to the side, but I can just make some of it out. I don’t know anything about books, but reading the stuff in the margins feels like getting a peek into someone’s soul. Whoever wrote these notes had a soul full of rage and pain, and they were connected with the pain felt by the characters in the books. Each book I pull off the shelf to look through is like that, with little notes off to the side and underlined parts. Some words are circled, others crossed out. It’s like whoever did it dedicated themselves to reading each book and finding the parts that either pissed them off or resonated with them the most. I’m putting a few of them back and reaching for another one when someone steps into the room. “What the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice intones behind me. August. And he’s pissed. As usual. I turn around to look at him, and something in the way his face looks so guarded and angry makes me pretty damn sure these books are his. I’m still on edge, feeling exposed from what happened with Napoleon. I hate that 2these men have gotten under my skin. That was never supposed to be part of the plan. I was just supposed to fuck with them, not let them fuck with me back. “Just exploring,” I tell him, shrugging. “Seeing what there is to see in here. Found these books.” “You shouldn’t go poking around in other people’s shit,” he snaps, his broad frame looming in the doorway. I shrug. “It was all just here, so I figured, why not? They’re yours, aren’t they? Or at least, you’re the one who wrote these things in them.” His jade eyes flash with irritation, and I know I’m right. He wouldn’t care so much if they weren’t his and he wasn’t the one who’d gone through all the trouble to make these notes. “So what’s all this about, then?” I ask, flipping open one of the books to a random page. It’s got so many notes on it I can barely make them all out, and I lift an eyebrow. “There’s some heavy stuff in here. One of the characters is talking about… I don’t even know what. The suffering they’re going through. And then you wrote a whole tiny little paragraph about how they don’t even know what true suffering is.” “Stop it,” he grits out, a warning in each syllable. I don’t stop, though. Because this feels good. More addictive than any drug. I want to poke at him, want to get under his skin the way they’ve all gotten under mine. “This part right here about the ‘darkness that you can’t escape’ is pretty poetic,” I say with a little smirk. “Maybe you’re in the wrong business. You should stop abducting women from alleys and take up writing full time.

 It seems like you’d have a lot to pull from for inspiration, judging from what you wrote here.” That seems to be the last straw. August moves forward, marching up to me and yanking the book out of my hand. He crowds into my space, pressing me up against the shelf until the wooden ridges of it dig into my back. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he hisses. “So you should shut your mouth.” He’s so close, but I don’t back down. “Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I want to know more. Maybe I want to figure out what makes you work, August. How you ended up the way you are.” “That wasn’t the deal,” he snaps. “Fuck the deal,” I reply. “I’m guessing you used to live in that shithole apartment building you took me to.” “What?” “I’m not an idiot. You knew it way too well for it to be somewhere new to you, or somewhere you only go when you need information. Plus, Meredith talked to you like she cared. That shit takes time. what's up with that?”

“None of your fucking business.” I can feel the rage pouring off him, but I don’t back down. He’s not going to hurt me—that wouldn’t be in his best interests, considering he needs me alive to kill Ivan—and if he did try to, I could just hurt him back. So all he can really do is stand there while I push his buttons, getting more and more pissed off with no real outlet for it. It feels good to be on the instigating end, finally, to be the one doing the pushing instead of getting pushed. And I keep riding the waves of that, leaning into August and not letting him get away with his non-answers. “What was it like?” I press. “Living there? How old were you? Young?” “Shut up.” His expression closes down some, fury blurring out any other emotion. He’s uncomfortable, but relying on anger to get through it is a tried-and-true method. I know that well myself. “Why don’t you want to talk about it? You took me there, so it’s not like I don’t know.” “That was for a purpose,” he spits. “Not for you to go digging around in my life.” “Oh, it sucks when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?” I shoot back. “Maybe I don’t want to let you off the hook that easily.” “Maybe I don’t give a fuck what you want.” “Well, that’s obvious. If you did, I wouldn’t be here. You’re holding me hostage in your fucking house, and you won’t even give me anything entertaining to keep myself occupied. Tell me why these books.” “I’m not telling you anything!” The words rip out of him, and there’s pure rage behind them. His eyes are snapping with it, and he’s practically growling at me. “Just a little hint?” I ask, putting on a pleading face. “Small one? Were you some kind of nerd in school? You don’t seem like the type.” Before I can get out another taunt, he grabs my upper arms in a tight grip. I can feel the strength and anger in the press of his fingers, and I know I’ll have marks there later. I half expect him to shove me forcibly out of the room, but instead, he drops his head and crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me hard enough to bruise.

August kisses me hard, biting down on my lower lip and dragging it into his mouth to suck on it before releasing it with a loud pop. A little noise of frustrated pleasure spills from my mouth, and I grab his shirt, hauling him back in for more. He doesn’t resist, devouring my mouth with his, hot and slick and messy. It’s the same thing I did with Napoleon earlier, kissing him to get him to shut up and stop saying shit I didn’t want to hear. I know that’s what he’s doing right now. But somehow, I don’t care. His hands roam over my shoulders and down my arms, finding their way around to fit in between my back and the bookshelf I’m still pressed against. He manages to grab twin handfuls of my ass, groping me hard, and I moan into his mouth all over again. I can’t control my reaction to it, and I don’t even try that hard, really. It’s all happening too fast. All the anger and hate between us is coming out as this hot, intense sexual desire, and I feel like it would burn me up if I tried to ignore it. I can feel how hard August is as he presses forward, grinding into me. I press back against him, rubbing against the hardness of his body. With a little growl of desire, his mouth moves from mine down to my jaw, leaving biting, open-mouthed kisses as he blazes a trail to my neck.

 I gasp when he bites at just the right spot, arching against him and tipping my head back. That seems to give him an idea, and one hand releases my ass to fist in my hair, yanking it enough to one side that he has complete access to my neck. His mouth is hot and wet, and it feels like it’s everywhere as he kisses me, my body responding eagerly to his touch no matter what my mind might think about him. My nipples go hard and tight, and my pussy throbs with need. It still feels too empty from when Napoleon rejected me, and it’s almost like it can sense that there’s a chance to fix that right now. “Fuck,” I groan, pulling against August’s hold on my hair just to feel the sharp pain that comes from the resistance. He doesn’t say anything, releasing my hair after a moment and letting the silvery strands fall over my shoulders as his hands start roaming again. They find my nipples, and he pinches and tweaks them through my shirt at first before sliding his hands under the fabric and shoving my bra out of the way. His mouth trails down lower, and he presses those hot, feverish kisses along the skin of my chest and my tits, tugging down the neckline of my shirt until he finds one nipple and takes it between his teeth, biting down and none too gently.

 I cry out at the sharp sting of it, squirming against the shelves while he practically feasts on my tits, leaving even more biting kisses in his wake. Pinned in place, it’s all I can do to stay upright against the shelves, letting him run his mouth over my skin and my nipples. My pussy is wet again, so desperate to be touched or filled or something, and I grind even harder against him, searching for the friction to take the edge off. August finally looks up again, and his jade green eyes are dark now. There’s still anger there, but it’s being crowded out by the raw lust emanating from him. It’s a damn good look on him, and I reach up to grab ahold of the back of his neck, pulling him down so I can kiss him again. He grunts out something that might be a curse or might be my name, but I swallow the sound either way, shoving my tongue into his mouth and almost daring him to keep up with me. And he does. He kisses back with equal intensity, matching my pace until we’re both breathless. I’m the first one to pull back, needing to catch my breath while my head spins. August takes advantage of the moment and rips my shirt over my head, exposing my bare chest to the air of the room. He yanks my bra off, and I half expect him to go back to my tits, but instead, his hands go down lower, undoing the button and zipper on my jeans so he can drag them down. August’s already dark eyes turn almost black as he stares down at me. 

Without saying a thing, he drops to his knees in front of me and takes those kisses down to my pussy. He sucks and licks at it like it’s the best thing he’s tasted all year, his tongue working itself along my folds and circling my hole with precision. I can’t help the way I shiver at how it feels, the heat and pleasure of it shooting through me. I still feel sensitive from Napoleon making me fall apart so many times less than an hour ago, and August’s mouth on me feels amplified, as if every sensation is turned up to eleven. He’s messy with it, eating me out and making his face and my thighs slick with my arousal. I look down at him while he drags his tongue over me, breathing hard and still feeling spiteful. “You’re lapping up Napoleon’s cum, you know,” I taunt breathlessly. That’s enough to get him to jerk back, but he doesn’t seem disgusted or squeamish about it. Instead, his eyes are dark with anger again, and his face twists into a mask of fury. “You fucked Napoleon?” he demands. I can’t tell if he’s mad about me fucking Napoleon in general or me fucking Napoleon instead of him. I could easily lie and say that yeah, we fucked, but it bothers me for some reason that the answer is no. I was right there, mostly naked and still a mess from the rolling orgasms Napoleon gave me, and he didn’t want to finish what he fucking started. It sits sourly in my belly, the sting of rejection still present and irritating. So I refuse to answer August, just raising an eyebrow and shrugging one shoulder. Let him think whatever he wants about that.

 He narrows his eyes, a hard look coming over his face. Then he slaps my pussy hard with one hand. I jerk and moan in surprise, taken aback by the sudden harshness. When he does it again, harder, a flash of pain bursts through me before my clit starts to throb with need. “Fuck.” It’s basically the only thing I can think to say to express that it felt fucking good, but August doesn’t seem to need more than that. He dives back in, hands gripping my hips hard while he licks me with even more vicious determination than before. Even with the knowledge that he’s licking the remnants of Napoleon’s cum out of me, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t seem like he’s put off at all. It’s more like he wants to lick me clean or something, to overtake what Napoleon did to me and wipe it out of my memory.

And he’s fucking good at it, too. I don’t know where August falls on the spectrum of Syverson to Napoleon in terms of how often he likes to fuck, but he knows what he’s doing. His tongue curls along my clit, teasing it and working me up. I thread my fingers into his hair, holding on tight and rolling my hips as the sensation builds and builds and builds. I can feel my orgasm rising, threatening to overtake me. And then, when I’m right there on the edge, about to tip over into a fucking amazing orgasm, August stops and pulls back. “What the shit?” I gasp out, sounding hoarse and breathless. “I was close.” He doesn’t say anything, just gets up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. My legs are shaky, and I’m ready to be pissed off as hell if he thinks he’s going to walk away without getting me off after all that. But then he grabs me again and turns me around so I’m facing the bookshelves. He grabs my hands and braces them against the wood, moving me where he wants me. I should be pissed off. I am pissed off. But that’s not the only reason my heart is racing. He grabs my pants where they’re pooled around my ankles and pulls them up just enough that they wedge my thighs together, keeping my legs tightly closed so I can’t open them. Just how he wants me. I’m about to turn around and tell him to get the fuck on with it, when he drives into me hard enough to leave me breathless. Like this, with my legs pressed together, I’m even tighter than usual, and it’s like I can feel him everywhere, pressing against my walls, filling me up.

 August isn’t gentle with it either. He grabs my hips hard, fingers digging into my flesh as he fucks me even harder. His cock drives into me with punishing force, the sound of our skin slapping together ringing out in the room. I don’t bother to hold back my sounds of pleasure. I probably couldn’t even if I wanted to. Not with the way he’s fucking me hard and dirty, making sure that each thrust sends the whole length of his cock slamming into me, hitting that spot inside me that makes me cry out almost every time. Heat and electric sensation curl through me, radiating out from my center to spread into my whole body. I was already on edge before, from his mouth on me, and this is just another step closer to throwing me into an orgasm headfirst. I move my hand, ready to rub at my clit until I come from it all, but August growls behind me. He grabs my wrist and puts my hand back where it was, holding it down with almost bruising force. “No,” he pants. “You don’t get to touch yourself.” It flashes through my mind to tell him where he can shove his bossy bullshit, but then he slams into me so hard that it’s all I can do to stay upright. My heart is pounding almost as forcefully as the way he’s fucking me, bashing against my ribs and making it hard to catch a full breath. Books fall from the shelves around us as my tight grip on the bookshelf makes the whole thing shake. My back is arched, my eyes half closed. My whole body is on fire. I’m so close, right there on the edge, ready to tip over into that well of pleasure that’s been building steadily, but August doesn’t let me. He doesn’t give me that last little push I need. Instead, he starts fucking me more shallowly, letting his cock dip in and out of my pussy without driving all the way in. A noise of helpless frustration spills out of my mouth, and I ball my hands into fists against the wood of the shelf. August doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even taunt me for being needy and desperate. He just keeps his hips moving, turning those shallow thrusts into long, slow ones that still don’t give me all that I need. He’s holding out for as long as he can, clearly, and it’s driving me fucking insane. I thrust my hips back, trying to take him to the hilt, trying to get more, and he just makes a low noise and digs his fingers in harder. 

Maybe it’s a warning, maybe it’s a reaction. I don’t know and I don’t fucking care. All I know is that if I don’t come, I’m going to go insane. My core throbs, spasming around his dick like it’s desperate to milk it dry once I’m allowed to come, and I whine low in my throat, feeling all that sensation keep building like it’s going to snap. Finally, he seems to be at the end of his tether. I can feel his hips stuttering, the stamina he’s been using to drive me nuts finally giving out. He reaches around and down and pinches my clit hard. The pain and stimulation are enough to set me off like a bomb, and I nearly scream, getting a hand up over my mouth in time to muffle it as I explode in pleasure. I can barely breathe, barely keep my body from shaking itself apart as I come, gushing on his cock and squeezing it hard. August follows me over the edge, letting out a low groan as he pumps me full of his release. I’m breathless, slumped against the shelves, trying to remember how to move or do anything. My body is still trembling from the force of my pleasure, and I nearly stagger when August pulls out and steps back. By the time I can turn around to look at him, he’s pulling his pants up and tucking his cock away. Even though I’m positive he was just as into that as I was, he looks more put together, since he’s dressed and not oozing cum the way I am. “Clean up the fucking books,” he says, back to that angry, flat tone. Then he turns and walks out, leaving me there with the mess. Whatever bliss I was feeling a second ago evaporates instantly on the heels of my anger, and I’m pissed off all over again. Not about fucking him, but about the fact that it feels like he’s won something. Like he’s the one who came out ahead and has the higher ground now, even though I’m the one who instigated the confrontation.

 He walked out like he was fine and nothing had changed, but I’m the one slumped against a shelf like I’ve lost my equilibrium. August definitely had the upper hand while we were fucking. I needed him at that moment, and I hate that more than anything. He practically had me begging, poised on the edge of an orgasm I could only get from him, and he knew it. “Fucking asshole,” I spit, even though there’s no one there to hear it. I don’t need anybody. Least of all August. Or any of these fucking guys. “I’ll pick up your stupid books,” I mutter under my breath. I gather up the ones that fell off the shelves and make sure to smear his cum on the pages before slapping them shut and putting them away. The pages will get stuck together, and it’ll serve him fucking right.

[brownieinspace]

…Hi? I will write quite a bit, then there will be pictures, I promise. I've been thinking about what to do with this account for a long time. It's hard enough for me to use Tumblr because of the language barrier (I read and write through an online translator, I'm sorry if it comes out crookedly).

It's pretty empty here, because I don't really know how to fill it all up. I have almost no strength to maintain an art account for agents, unfortunately my interest in them has weakened enough, except that occasionally I manage to draw something (there will be a little more about this later). And to post something else…I don't think it's going to make any sense.

So…I just don't know what to do. But I definitely don't want to just throw it all away at some point.

Now the pictures, hehehe. I brought the sketches that I did in the spring and summer, when I practically disappeared from here and didn't post anything at all, it was too hard a time. I don't think I'll ever finish them, but it would be really sad if no one saw them at all.

[cha-melodius]

Napollya #46 :)

46. …out of envy or jealousy.

It doesn't mean anything that they're supposed to be here together. Yes, their covers to get into this very specific type of underground nightclub stipulated that they're a couple, but covers can be adapted as necessary to fit the mission. Of course Napoleon was always going to flirt with gay men at the gay club. It's not a problem.

"You're scowling," Napoleon murmurs in his ear, and Illya only barely keeps from startling. He has no idea how Napoleon managed to sneak up on him.

"And?"

"It's off-putting." Napoleon slips onto the stool next to him and steals the whiskey out of Illya's hand. "No one's going to want to talk to you."

"Maybe I am not trying to attract anyone because I came here with my boyfriend," Illya growls, then almost immediately regrets it.

One of Napoleon's eyebrows arches upward. "Are you jealous, Peril?"

"Just sticking to cover, Cowboy," Illya grits out under his breath. It's a lie, and he knows Napoleon can tell.

"Is that so?" Napoleon shifts closer, too close, close enough that Illya can feel the heat of his body and smell the whiskey on his breath. "Tell me, as my jealous boyfriend, what would you do next? You know. For our covers."

The challenging smirk on Napoleon's face officially makes Illya lose his goddamned mind. He grabs Napoleon by one of his belt loops and yanks him even closer, then pulls him into a bruising kiss with his other hand gripping the nape of his neck. It's horribly possessive and completely inappropriate, and it helps nothing at all that Napoleon melts into it immediately.

This... might be a problem.

(Send me a ship and a number and I'll write a kiss) (Read all my kiss ficlets)

[doll-r-t]

Henry/Henry’s Characters x reader with chronic pain

Henry, Henry's Characters x disabled!reader

Including: Henry, Napoleon, Syverson, August, Sherlock, Geralt, Walter Marshall

Written by an actual disabled person. Every disability and a disabled persons needs are different. This is based on my struggles and needs. So please if you know someone disabled consult them on what they need. Listen to THEM. Not something you read on the internet.

Gif credit to owner

Napoleon:

You struggled with being touched when you are in pain, any kind of pressure would only hurt you more. It drained your energy. So he would make sure that the room was cool, putting on silk sheets anything that is soft and would not cause any more friction or heat your body up. Then he would lay down on his back and settle you between his legs, the only point you were touching was his chest. He was trying to keep his legs as spread as he could as not to touch you more. He would let you sleep on his chest while he would watch documentaries or review papers. Once in a while, he would massage your scalp or stroke your hair to make you relax. 

Syverson:

Syverson absolutely hated seeing you in pain. So once you were good he would sit you down to make a plan. Finding out what would help you and what would not. He was glad that he was trained as a Special Force because he had to push down all his emotions when you are in pain and make you do your exercises or stretches that would ease the pain. Normally you just wanted to curl up and just take the pain and cramps but he was not having it. He knew it was exhausting for you so he would help you sit up and support you in any way he could during your stretches. He would also massage certain areas knowing it would get better. But still, he would bite down on his teeth when you would moan or flinch in pain. He hated that it would leave bruises from you tensing so much. He thought the only time you should have bruises was from pleasure when he grips you tightly to him while thrusting in you. He would whisper encouraging words to you. Afterward, he would get you something cold to drink or ice cream as a reward as the cold would help you. Once your body was less tense he would let you rest, either laying with you or checking up on you regularly. Normally at that time, he was quite letting you work it out on your own as you needed it. He would make sure that for the rest of the day and night you would take it easy. 

August:

He would give you a stern look when he realized you were in pain but not resting as you should. He would lay you down on the bed completely naked and slowly trace your body with ice cubes to cool you down and make you tense then relax from the difference between cold and warm. He would adjust your body in a way that eased your pain. When it was in your hips he would grab your legs and slowly pull making you stretch. He had done research on it so he tried to replicate what he saw. He would massage your face, especially your jaw as you had the tendency to lock it and it would cause you to have a headache. So he would first cool down his hands with ice cubes and then move your jaws and put pressure on your temples. He would buy you a soft stuffed animal so you had something to hold onto while he massaged your pressure points. He would encourage you to put your face into the stuffed animal and just hold onto it. Once your body was relaxing he would softly caress your body telling you how good you were, how strong, and how much he loved you. “Do you want a reward sweetheart? Hmm, you are such a good girl, baby. So good for me.” He would massage your pussy a little and circle your clit to get you to relax even more. Then he would lay his head between your tights and lick you. Telling you to just lay back and relax, close your eyes and try to sleep a bit. He would not tease like he usually would. No games just giving you his warm tongue on your wet heat until you fell asleep.

Geralt:

It was his instinct to protect and care for people even though he did not show it. But he could not fight your own body it was an invisible force and he felt helpless which made him angry. He would consult Vesemir and Triss feeling frustrated and not being able to take your pain. He thought that maybe Vesimir had something you could take but it was too risky taking a Witcher potion. He would read up on herbs that could help heal the body. He would collect peppermint leaves and brew them into a tea. Instead of making you drink it, he would put it on your temples and on your forehead, putting fresh peppermint leaves on it. The intense smell would distract you from the pain. Forcing your senses to concentrate on the pleasant sting of the intense smell. It also slowly conditioned you to relax when you smelled peppermint. It did not matter to him if he had to sleep on the hard ground or on uncomfortable beds but he sure as hell would not let you sleep like that. He would put as many blankets as he found and furs on the bed. He even build the bed higher so it was easier for you to get in and out of bed. He would run you a bath and let you relax in the hot water before joining you. He would wash your hair which was your favorite thing before drying you off and dressing you in the softest nightgown you had ever felt. He had gotten Triss to enchant it so it would keep you warm or cool depending on what you needed and made it soft. He would light a fire and kiss and stroke your face until you fell asleep. He would like to hug you to him but he did not cause you any more pain so he would just hold your hand until you woke up. 

Sherlock:

He would be stiff and uncomfortable at first. He was not the best person at comforting people but he tried. He always had this air of distance, being an observer. So he figured out pretty quickly what was going on with you. In his typical fashion, he would read up on it. Interested in how your condition worked and affected the body. He would rely on medical knowledge to help you. Like herb teas to help you give your body the nutrients you needed. He would get you a wheelchair and bring you outside. It was good for you to go to the countryside and get some fresh air and sun. Even if you would be grumpy about it. He would lay down a blanket and get the servant to pack a basket. He would wheel you outside under a tree. He would put you down on the blanket and give you some tea and a piece of bread with your favorite jam on it. He knew he struggled with opening up and talking about his feelings or just talking in general with you. But he tried. So he would start out by reading to you, trying to keep your mind distracted. Once he was more comfortable with you he would put your head in his lap and tell you about a case he was working on, or a book he read, a fact he found most interesting. Sometimes when it seemed that you had fallen asleep he would whisper to you about a beautiful flower field he saw that he wished you had seen. It had reminded him of you and he knew you would like it. He would buy you dresses that were light and not too tight. Sometimes you would lay next to you, and kiss you softly on your forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips. “I always loved the adventure, the mystery, going from one place to the other. But I have to admit since meeting you I have treasure these moments more than anything. Thank you for teaching me a new part of life.” He would only whisper these things when he was laid next to you not looking at you. But it did not make it any less sweet. 

Walter:

He would have all kinds of gadgets for you. Like a head wrap where you can put ice cubes in it. He would wrap it around your head and lay a cold towel on your neck and shoulders. He knew your hand hurt so he would put you in a recliner he had bought for you so you were still sitting up but laid back a bit. He would put your hands with the palms up on the armrest and put cold wet towels from the freezer on your wrists to get the blood flowing. Once they were cooled down and almost numb he would sit in front of you letting you play with his curly hair. He knew how much you loved caressing through them and you knew how much he disliked it unless it was during sex. It was so intimate and it made him a bit uncomfortable scared that he would lose you to the bad people that he knew were out there. But his need for you to be better and more comfortable was greater so he would encourage you to start moving your hand by playing with his hair. He knew it was tough for you to move them, the motor practice causing you pain and exhaustion but your physical therapist had told you that you had to do this to loosen them. The recliner had a massage function that he would set while he made your favorite food and readied the TV to watch your comfort show. 

Henry: 

Once Henry realized what was going on with you he would be all hands on board. He would ask if he could come with you to the physical therapist so he could see what they do to ease the pain. Ask questions and what he can do to help you. He would buy a lounger like one they had in physical therapy. He would buy the oils and cremes he saw in the rooms. He would have it all set up in his gym. Either he would scoop you up and carry you there, apologizing over and over again for hurting you by carrying you. “I promise love. I will make it better just a bit longer okay. You gotta be strong for me. Can you do that baby?” He would have it all set up. Cooling the air down in the room, towel on the lounger, and your favorite nature sounds. He would put headphones in and before tell you to relax. He would start out slow getting you used to the feeling of him touching you. He did not want to start out too strong still fearful of hurting you. He had all the equipment so even after a long day of shooting he would at least spend 30 minutes every day helping you with physical therapy. And when you were in pain he would help you as long as you needed it. If he was on set and could not be there for you he made sure you had access to a physical therapist or any kind of massage therapist. He would also spend far too much money on gadgets that could potentially help you. Like a hand held massage toy with different applicators to get to the spot when he is not there. Especially during the night when he has a shoot on set. When he was not there he would still insist on you telling him if you were in too much pain so he could at least try and help you a bit. By sending you pictures of Kal and him and ordering food for you. He sometimes would call the florist and send you your favorite flowers. If there was one thing that was true about Henry it was that he took care of the people he loved and you were no exception. He would never make you feel like you were a burden. 

What do you guys think? Would they react that way? Or what would they do differantly? Please comment!

Taglist:

@tumblnewbyy @irishprincess89 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel1122 @sofiebstarr @omgkatinkaa @enchantedbytomandhenry @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirlrl @pjkimrnn @zealoushoundd, @lunedelorientt​, @tragicphoenix133​, @alexa-fangirl-foreverr​, @vhjlucky133​ @bourbonwithice, @identity221212

[georgiapeach30513]

Wake Up Call Masterlist COMING SOON

A mess.  Your life was always a mess.  You should have been faithful to Ryan, especially since he was such a good father.  But your mutual boss was persistent.  Now ten years later will you be able to be faithful to your new husband?  A mess.  It’s what it always was.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[lhenrycavil]

Today is your first day working as his assistant, he can't keep his eyes off you. 😮‍💨🩵

[academicgangster]

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. 1x19 "The Secret Sceptre Affair" || NCIS 2x13 "The Meat Puzzle"

[heytheredeann]

Honestly the more I watch the boat scene the more you can't tell me that Napoleon did not deliberately throw himself off that boat. Nobody falls like that. Stunt people would not fall like that if they were told to make a fall look natural.

Napoleon knew Illya wasn't going to make it. Napoleon knew the chances were they'd both get caught. He looked at the odds and threw his ass off that boat and left Illya as the fall guy and honestly?

I respect it.

LOOOOOL it's possible

Honestly, that would kinda make the whole thing FUNNIER, because Napoleon not only stole a sandwich, sat himself down and happily "watched Illya work", as he was asked, because he's a TEAM PLAYER, but he yeeted himself off the boat ON PURPOSE and left Illya to deal with the whole mess LOOOOOL he's so petty

But ALSO, if he PLANNED it, it makes the fact that he went back even better for me

Like the whole POINT was to let Illya be the fall guy and yet he just HAD to turn back and fish him out of the water, he had a PLAN and then his conscience decided to make an unwelcome appearance LOOOOOL

It kinda reminds me of Napoleon grabbing the watch and keeping it to himself for as long as possible to use it as a trump card, only to eventually say "fuck it" and throw it at Illya as a peace offering

Anyway, Napoleon Solo IS a little shit so I can see this loooool

[witchersmistress]

Library Aftermath

Hello my darlings!! as promised to @livesinfantasyland here is how he reacted.. i do not plan on adding this to an on going series list at this moment

Trigger warnings: None, fluff

Word count:1.4K

It’s been a few days since Evelyn came home in the middle of the night, practically morning, smiling with triumph and saying she had a plan. There was something haunted in her eyes that night, like whatever she had to do to get this plan in place cost her something, but apparently it was worth it. I asked her then what the plan was, but she told me she’d tell us in the morning, making me wait and grinning when I seemed pissed off about it. I watched her go up the stairs to her room with a bad feeling in my chest. She laid it all out for us the next day.

How she met one of the hookers from the red light district and talked to her. How Charles  has a fucking assault fetish and likes to make the girls he hires act it out. Just when I thought it wasn’t possible for me to hate that piece of shit more. It all comes together when Evelyn explains it. All she has to do is wait for this girl to call her, and then she’ll move in and do what she does best. What she’s been working toward all this time. She’ll take out the last fucker on the list. But this isn’t like before, when she was going to shoot Charles  from across the street and be gone before anyone realized what happened. 

This is different. She’ll be in the middle of it all. Right there, pretending to be some fucking helpless hooker for him to take advantage of. It’s sick, just like Charles  himself, and just thinking about it makes me grind my teeth in irritation. But of course, Evelyn doesn’t give a shit. She’s focused on the fact that this plan will work, and it’s the best shot she has. I know she wants him dead, more than she wants anything else, apparently, but it’s still a bad plan. I didn’t like her plan when she first told it to us, and I don’t like it now. In fact, I fucking hate it. I hate pretty much everything about this, starting with the night she killed someone outside our club. She’s in our lives now. Deep in. Way too deep for only having been here a short while. Little signs of her are everywhere in the house. A bra slung over the back of a chair, a bottle of nail polish on the table, her brand of cigarettes on the counter.

 I can’t help but think about Walter’s warnings that first night, how we should just kill her and be done with it because she’s only going to bring trouble. He wasn’t wrong. She’s wormed her way into our lives and our home and our routines. At some point, I stopped thinking of the room she sleeps in as the guest room and started calling it her room. Like she lives here and isn’t just staying so we can keep an eye on her. Syverson and Napoleon both pant after her like horny dogs, even Walter seems to have made some kind of peace with her, and I… I wander into the library, unable to forget fucking Evelyn in here. I think about how she worked herself back, taking every violent thrust with pleasure, demanding more all at the same time. She riled me up to a breaking point and then handled it completely when I unleashed on her. I’m sure a lot of people would think it’s weird for there to be a full library in a house like this. They’d probably think the same thing about Walter’s piano.

 But this is where I come to settle my mind when my demons scream too loudly. It’s peaceful and it’s mine. My father was a piece of shit who mocked me for not learning how to read for a long time, so I’ve made it a point to read everything I can since I learned. I find old books, the classics that all the stuffy intellectuals say you have to read if you want to be anybody, and I read them. I keep them, along with the notes I make in the margins. Like proof that I can do whatever the fuck I set my mind to without approval from anyone else. Nothing can hold me back. I walk along the shelves, trailing my fingers over the place where Evelyn had her hands while I fucked her from behind. She wanted to touch herself, but I wouldn’t let her, keeping her hands right there, making her take it at my pace. Just thinking about it makes my cock perk up, and I can feel myself getting hard. I pick up one of the books from the shelf. Heart of Darkness. Appropriate. I open it and go to flip through it, but the pages don’t fan open the way they should. A bunch of them are stuck together, hard at the edges and unable to be pulled apart. I narrow my eyes and put it back, picking up another one. It has the same issue. My jaw clenches with anger. Evelyn is in the living room, watching Napoleon and Syverson beat the shit out of each other in a video game, and I march in, holding the book in my hand. “What the fuck happened?” I snap, my voice cutting through the sound of video game violence and Syverson laughing. Evelyn looks up, confused at first, but then she sees the book in my hand and bursts out laughing. Her blue eyes are bright, and she runs fingers through her shiny silver hair like she couldn’t give less of a shit. “I don’t know, Gus,” she says, shrugging. “But it really isn’t a good idea to smear cum all over the pages of books. They’ll just stick together. Didn’t you learn that lesson with porno magazines when you were younger?” I see red at her nonchalant expression. “I didn’t fucking smear cum on them,” I growl. Napoleon and Syverson are still in the middle of their game, but I can tell they’re listening. Syverson’s laughter might be about how his character just ripped the spine out of Napoleon’s character and beat him half to death with it or because of me talking about jizz on the pages of my books. Either way, it just pisses me off more. It’s like it’s a game to them.

 Like this isn’t our lives this woman has marched herself into and started fucking with. She’s here, like she owns the place, making herself at home and fucking things up. Of course they both love it. Syverson is a sucker for chaos. Anything new and different and exciting. Plus, Evelyn seems to understand him in a fucked up way. He wouldn’t spend so much time around her if she didn’t. Napoleon just wants to fuck her, and he probably has already. She’s the type to get him excited, and he also likes when things are happening. Especially things that involve a pretty girl. Both of them are missing the point—that she’ll be gone soon enough, and all the shit she fucked up will have to try to get back to normal. If that’s even possible.

I stand in the middle of the living room glaring at her, feeling like I’m the only one who gets it. Mad at her for fucking with my shit, for being so damn compelling. I want her to kill Charles  so she can get the fuck out of our lives already, even though I know it won’t be that easy. Nothing’s ever that fucking easy. Her grin just goes wider as she glances down at the book in my hand. “Oh, yeah. That was me.” Anger rises in me. I’m pissed as fuck. She’s grinning like she doesn’t have a care in the world, like it doesn’t faze her that she fucked with my stuff. I stride toward her, prepared to yank her up, bend her over my knee and punish her if I have to, but her phone rings before I reach her. She rolls her eyes at me and pulls it out of her pocket, answering it as soon as she sees the name on the screen. Her face goes serious in an instant, all traces of humor falling away. She gets up from the couch, moving over to a corner to talk in a hushed conversation.

I hear her say “Are you sure?” and “Okay,” and “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” Everyone in the room stops, looking at her while she talks. Syverson has stopped laughing, and Napoleon isn’t grinning anymore. The atmosphere in the room has completely changed. I forget all about the books, waiting to hear the verdict. Finally, she hangs up and turns to look at all of us. “That was Avalon,” she says. “Charles  put in a request for a girl, and Avalon volunteered to do it for the night. It's time to go.”

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

🎧Elle the Space Unicorn's Masterlist🎧

Reader inserts will have no descriptors, OFCs will be black and plus-sized(unless otherwise stated). I love being able to give girls/femmes who look like me the chance to romance some of their faves.

🎧Bless my current muse...🎧

I love to write fanfiction. Right now, my main muse is Henry Cavill. But I also like some Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters (see below who I will write for - send prompts or requests to @ellethespaceunicorn HERE).

Buy Me A Ko-Fi? | AO3 | Author Recs | Fic Recs | Headcanon Recs | Fic Prompts | Fic Title Ideas | Words to use instead of ‘said’ | WIP List | 2023 Fanfiction Wrapped | 2023 Character Wrapped

Masterlist is under the Cut...

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

Scrapbook (finished)

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

Don't Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

What Are You Doing, StepBro?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader

Summary: Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director's Cut] {DARKER FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Happy Birthday, Cupcake

Rating: General

Pairing: Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader 

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Don't Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Forever And A Day

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Geralt x Black!OFC

Summary: Geralt and Lavinia share a passionate reunion.

An Angel Without Wings

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Frank Castle x Unnamed!Black!OFC

Summary: When she needs him to take control, he’s there for her.

Fifteen Minutes

Character: Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Syverson x Reader 

Rating: Mature

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Pretty As A Picture

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC

Summary: At a New Year's Eve party, Ransom Drysdale's life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

My Little Strawberry

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Rating: Mature

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Summary: This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Praise You

Rating: General, pure fluff

Pairing: Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Summary: Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Follow-up to Shape-Up: My Little Strawberry

The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Walter Marshall - Hobbies

Lloyd Hansen - Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

Lloyd Hansen - What happens when reader starts dressing to match lloyd?

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz, so far only these categories 😁 Let me know if you ever want to be removed!

General Fanfiction (Everything)

Henry Character Fanfiction

Chris Character Fanfiction

August Walker

Bright Like The Moon

Love, Napoleon!

Daddy Knows Best

Don't Take My Sunshine Away

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest

~Please DON'T ask me to tag you in a series that you've never 'liked' or 'reblogged'. It's just kind of rude. Also, don't ask for an ETA on the next chapter.~

*Blog Header, Cover Art for fics, Masterlist Header/MDNI 18+ Banner, Support/Reblog banner and Masterlist Dividers made by me in Canva*